the traitor
by mildetryth
Summary: it's about my idea of Judas. some people might be offended by it, but I hope not. If you don't like it, or if you do, just review please! It's my first story! I'm not religious, I just write this for fun.
1. Chapter 1

**The Traitor**

Mary Magdalene didn't like Judas Iscariot. She couldn't help herself. The way he smiled, scornfully and mocking; the way he moved, silent and suddenly appearing right behind you; his dark, cold eyes… she hated it all. Although, he was a pleasure to look at, many girls in town just came listen to the men because they liked the apostles and Jesus…

Jesus. He was such a dear. Always calm and understanding. He had dreamy, dark brown eyes, which didn't seem to see you and at the same time it was like they invaded your soul. His hair was long, and quite light. She always wanted to caress it, stroke it… but she didn't dare. It was stupid, ridiculous even, but she, the girl who wasn't afraid of anything, the whore of light pleasures, didn't dare to tell a man she loved him. She was terrified he might reject her.

She wished he hadn't such a deep connection with Judas. They almost seemed like brothers, always hanging out together. She was sometimes even afraid that he and Judas had a love relation. But then Jesus would say something to her, and for a moment, she was sure he loved her… She loved listening to his voice; he was so warm and soothing.

At the evenings, when they had made a camp, sometimes in a field, sometimes in a deserted house or an old temple, or, like now, in a forest, they would after dinner gather around the fire and discuss ideas, or listen to Jesus.

She looked around, watching the thirteen men fondly. Simon Peter, calm and fatherly; his brother Andrew, young and excited; James, wise and nice; the youngest, his brother John; Phillip, shy but sweet; Bartholomew, one of the older apostles with a very dry humour; Thomas, silent but loyal; Matthew, the sweet talker; another James, more like Andrew (they were good friends); Labbaeus, who everybody called Thaddeus (why nobody knew); Simon, the fighter; Judas; and Jesus.

This evening, Jesus had a discussion with Simon (not Peter) about fighting, like usual. For one reason or another, Simon kept pressing the point, not seeing what was obvious.

"No Simon," sighed Jesus. "That's my final word and that it will always be."

"But we can win, Nazareth!" exclaimed Simon. "They don't belong here."

"It's still no. If we fight them, we're as guilty as they are. What do you think, Mary?" he asked, suddenly turning to her.

"I think you're right," she answered. "Two wrongs don't make a right. That's what you mean, isn't it?" He smiled at her, approving, and some apostles, Peter, Matthew and Bartholomew amongst them, nodded.

"They don't belong here," said Simon stubborn.

"Why not, Simon?" said Judas unpleasant. "They _did_ concur us, didn't they?"

"That doesn't make them belong here," said Simon triumphant, thinking he had defeated Judas-with-the-sharp-tongue. He wished.

"Of course, not now. But I promise you, over a century or so, nobody will remember. And if they do, they won't care. Everybody here will think they're Romans."

Simon opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and said: "But it's our country."

"How very adult spoken. 'Mummy, it's my toy!'" he added in a childish voice.

Simon started pale and shouted: "Do you think you're smarter than me!"

"I must say it's very funny how people always start with seeing an insult in everything when they don't know a proper answer. But yes, I do think so."

"And what would you think if I hit your stupid face!"

Judas looked at him coolly. "Everybody would think you're a big hero, of course. Hitting a man who won't defend himself."

"Defend yourself then!"

"You know I won't."

"You're just scared! You're such a coward!" There was a little commotion at that shout. Judas was regarded upon as the lieutenant of the group.

"Sure. I attack everyday men who don't want to fight."

Simon jumped at Judas, and hit him at the chin. At a shout of Jesus Peter, James, Bartholomew, Matthew and Thaddeus stopped him and Judas came slowly up, smiling scornful. "What a hero."

"Judas, stop defying him!" said Jesus sharply. "And Simon, if you attack someone again, you can leave! Now apologize!"

"I'm sorry, Judas," muttered Simon.

"Never mention it," Judas said cheerful. "And sorry for the challenging, but you're darn funny when I do that."

They grinned at each other. She couldn't _believe_ it! Men!

After some talking, Judas said: "Hey Jesus," Jesus turned towards him. "Why is 'God' and everything He says about himself always written with a capital letter in the Bible?" Jesus blinked. "I mean, how did Abraham or Job or David or Moses know that God talked about himself with a capital? Did he pause every time he said 'me' or 'mine' and said then: 'this is with a capital letter.'? How did they know that?"

"Maybe the writers of the Bible did that, Judas."


	2. Chapter 2

"Yeah, but what do _you_ think?"

"He'll talk about himself in a capital letter if you want him to." They all watched the fire in silence for a couple of minutes.

Suddenly Jesus had coughing fit, it sounded as though he tried to cough out his lungs. He leaned over and gasped for breath. Judas bowed immediately towards him, looking anxious. "Jesus? Are you alright? Jesus? Talk to me!"

"I'm fine, Judas. I really am," he smiled.

"You've been doing that for days now. Don't you want to take a rest? Stay on the same spot for a couple of days?" asked Judas, and some apostles nodded in agreement.

"No. Thank you for worrying, though."

"Nobody would mind."

"I'll be fine." May leaned forward, picked up a cup with water and handed it to Jesus. He smiled gratefully and for a moment she thought she saw love in his eyes…

"What's the matter, Mary?" asked Peter. They were the only one still sitting around the fire. For Peter that wasn't surprising, he had guard tonight. The girl at the contrary, had been watching the fire for some time now, lost in thought. Peter watched the girl.

"Why does he like him?"

Peter sighed. He ought to have expected that question. "They're friends. They care for each other."

"I think Judas isn't worth him."

Peter poked in the fire. "It doesn't matter what anyone thinks, though. They're friends."

"But they are so _different_."

"That doesn't matter either. They… complete each other, you could say. Without black there is no white. Without evil there's no good."

Mary stared at him, mouth open. "Is Judas evil?"

"You understand me wrong," he smiled. She was sometimes really adorable. "Judas has always been Jesus' closest friend. Closer than Simon, John or me. They can argue about things. Judas always agrees with what Jesus says, but he still asks questions. I think it would be very boring for Jesus if everybody'd just nod when he explains something. And by-the-by, Judas tells wonderful stories, and Jesus loves to listen to him. You really should listen once."

"He hates me," she muttered. "I've done nothing, but he still acts like we're having a contest or something. And I don't even know what the price is!" After a silence, she added: "I'm afraidJesus doesn't like me, Peter. I'm… I think I'm in love with him."

Peter looked at the girl. She almost had tears in her eyes. "He's… He's the first one who didn't condemn me at the first sight." She breathed loud, trying to strain the tears.

"Don't worry, Mary," he said gentle. The girl's under lip started to tremble. "He loves you too."

"How do _you_ know?" said the girl, with quivering voice.

"I've been married too. And it's in everything he does. He loves you, Mary, and if you don't believe me, watch his eyes."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi Cain I'm not religious, if it's that that you mean. I just felt like writing it. And don't talk so haughty. I'd rather have you breaking down my story than the religion of a million people. Liz, thanks for the compliment, but not the entire story is told by Mary. P.S. I know, this chapter is terribly slimy and sort of romantic, but I couldn't resist.**

Mary watched Jesus talking from the other side of the square. He stood at the stairs of a big building. She didn't know what it was, but it was big and white and had graceful pillars. Jesus had gathered quite a crowd around him and told them now about God. The apostles stood beneath the stairs, gloating and proud. Judas at the other hand leaned not far behind Jesus against a pillar, arms folded and eyes at Jesus.

Mary couldn't help herself, she was quite proud herself, when she heard the people around her talk admiring or listen while they nodded their agreement. She started to make her way towards him.

Suddenly everything went very slow.

She heard an angry cry from the mob, and she turned half to see who screamed. A man with a big brown beard pointed at Jesus, and with the other hand he dragged his dagger. She saw like in a dream how he heightened the weapon and threw it.

She turned again and heard herself scream Jesus' name. He looked up, surprised, and saw the dagger flying towards him. James, Phillip, Bartholomew and Thaddeus shouted. Andrew, John, Simon and Matthew turned towards the man in the mob and hadn't even seen the danger. Peter, Thomas and the youngest James started to climb the stairs, towards Jesus. They would be too late. The dagger would kill Jesus, her love, her sun, her moon, her world… Mary realised it, but she couldn't believe it.

Then she saw Judas. He had become pale at the sight of the dagger and even looked frightened. He ran towards Jesus and pushed him aside, turning while he did so, and the weapon landed in his side. Jesus hit the ground with force and Judas dropped next to him.

Everything became normal again. She and the apostles quickly climbed the stairs. Jesus sat next to Judas, who had fainted. Or perhaps he was… Jesus shook Judas' shoulders.

"Judas? Judas!" he shouted almost hysterically. Judas' head rolled up and down.

"Jesus!" Peter landed beside him. "He just past out. We should lay him somewhere where it's quiet and he can recover. You can cure him." Jesus was a bit of a doctor, he had always herbs and medication with him.

Mary looked around. Everyone at the square had become wild, pushed each other aside and trapped everyone trying to get away. Nobody seemed to realise the man with the beard was already gone.

Jesus looked at Peter like he talked another language. His eyes were wild. Mary kneeled and said softly: "Jesus."

He looked at her and said: "Mary." His under lip started to tremble.

"We must get him away. The entire crowd is wild, we must place him somewhere he can rest and you can cure him. Otherwise he'll die."

Jesus nodded. "Well," she said. "Should I remove that dagger first?"

"No," Jesus said vaguely. "No… It will stop the bleeding for now. We should get him somewhere safe…"

He stood up. "Everyone!" His voice was loud and authoritarian. The mob stopped and listened. "Everybody is safe. The man who did this has already fled." There was a united sigh of relieve. Every one immediately believed Jesus. That wasn't surprising, he looked like he didn't even know what the word 'lie' meant. "My friend, however, has been hit by a dagger. We need a place where he can recover."

Twenty people immediately came forward, offering their house. Jesus observed them all, and then picked out a young, anxious man. "What's your name?"

"Mark, sir."

Jesus turned around. "Peter, Simon, could you carry Judas? And Matthew and Phillip, could you make the way clear?" Then he said to Mark: "Show us the way to your home."

The man almost stumbled over his feet while trying to obey. Mary gently took Jesus' hand. He looked so lost again. They followed Peter and Simon.

Mark pushed open the door of a house in the poorer neighbourhood, which lead to a grant room with a door to a little kitchen and showed Peter and Simon a bed for Judas. They laid him very carefully on it and Jesus kneeled immediately down. Mary sat next to him.

"I need some water and a cloth," Jesus murmured, stripping away Judas' shirt, which was wet with blood.

There were gasps, and James said very clearly: "God damn it." Judas' muscular chest and back were covered with scars, and over his entire belly ran a big, red burn.

"That must've hurt," whispered Thaddeus. Jesus looked up.

"Some water and a cloth, please," he said sharply.

Mark got it, and later he brought Jesus also the needle and thread he needed. Mary helped Jesus as well as she could, dabbing Judas' forehead and reaching herbs and bandage if he asked for it. The apostles sat around in the little room, trying not to take to much place. Once Peter suggested that they maybe better could go into town, without much convincement though, and the disgusted looks of the others said enough. So they all sat quietly, not talking and eying Jesus and Mary.

Finally Jesus sewed the wound, turned around and sat with a tired smile: "He'll be all right now."

When they all had convinced themselves he spoke the truth and not tried to set them at their ease, they all laughed shaky and patted Jesus and Mary at their back.

"When will he wake up?" asked John.

"I don't know," Jesus answered honest. "I just know he won't die. He's safe."

Mary smiled and stroked his hair. "But you must rest. You're deadly tired."

He shook his head. "I want to be awake when he wakes up."

She looked him in the eye and saw he wouldn't listen to her, whatever she said. "All right. But you must promise that you'll sleep after that."

He smiled. "I promise." He took her hand and they sat like that whole the time, while the apostles behind them enthusiastic talked, laughed and told stories to Mark, who listened very interested.

There had passed an hour before Judas started to move. It was not much, a small movement of the hand, a twitch of the face… but it was enough. Mary let go of Jesus' hand while Judas lips started to tremble and he blinked. "Jesus?" she heard softly.

"I'm here, Judas," said Jesus gently. The apostles stopped doing what they were doing and came closer.

Judas looked at Jesus. "Where… where are we?" he uttered laborious.

"We are in the house of Mark," Jesus replied calmly and Mark smiled shy. "He's offered us his house while you recover."

Judas nodded. "Could I… get some… water?"

Jesus took a cup and supported him while he sat up straight. Judas face twisted of pain. When he had drunk, he leaned back, closed his eyes and asked then: "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Jesus answered. "The dagger went quite deep. You shouldn't leave bed for at least two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Judas said with all the disgust he could manage. "That's going to bore me to dead!"

Some apostles laughed and Simon said cheerfully: "It seems like his brains aren't damaged."

Judas opened one eye and replied: "That would be very difficult, it seems like I've got yours too."

There sounded bursts of laughter all over the room, but Simon didn't seem to mind. "I'll bet he'll be walking around tomorrow."

"No, he won't," said Jesus, helping Judas to lie down again. Judas closed his eyes and muttered he was dizzy.

"You better sleep some more," Jesus smiled. "It's not like you had a cold."

Judas grinned. Jesus watched him. "Thank you."

Judas looked quite surprised. "Thank me for what?"

"Jumping before me."

"Oh that. I'd do it again, but I'm not quite in condition right now, so stop irritating people till I get better, ok?"

Jesus smiled like he knew that behind Judas' sarcastic talking there was something else. Judas closed his eyes weary. "I think I'll pass out."

"Go ahead. I'll stay with you." Judas nodded and after a minute he breathed slowly and steady again.

Mary had been able to convince Jesus to sleep for a couple of hours, but after that he refused to rest anymore, no matter how much she told him that it wouldn't help Judas that he was sick of tiredness. So she sighed and seated herself next to him, beside the bed. In return she got weary, lovely smiles.

Mary watched Judas' face. She was glad he wasn't dead. She felt that he tried to take Jesus away from her, for reasons she didn't know, but she was still glad he was alive. She knew it would break Jesus' heart if he died. That was one reason. The other one was that she was starting to get soft. The unhappy whore she had been had changed. She could hardly recognise herself when she looked in the mirror. Jesus had changed her.

Jesus was talking to Mark when the door flew open and a woman, not much more than a girl, burst in. "Mark! Have you heard it? They say someone has tried to kill Nazareth! They…"

She stopped dead in the middle of the room, with open mouth. Her eyes grew big when she recognised the apostles, and they almost fell out of her head when she saw Jesus. He smiled friendly and she turned red.

Mark stood up and walked towards the girl. "This is my sister, Ruth," he announced. She grinned bashful. "Ruth, these are Jesus and his followers. They'll stay with us till Judas Iscariot is better."

Ruth eyes fell for the first time on Judas and she blushed again. For a moment Mary wondered why; then she realised Judas didn't wear a shirt (it had been covered with blood and everybody had thought it wiser to get rid of it), was quite muscular and very handsome. She hadn't thought about that until now; when Jesus was around all other men seemed incomplete.

"What happened to him?" she gasped.

"He's been catching daggers," said James happily.

"And his very good in it," agreed Bartholomew. The apostles laughed, but the girl blinked.

"Come here," said Mark and he explained what had happened, occasionally interrupted by gasps and little cries from Ruth.

"We'll sleep outside, Mark," said Jesus when he had finished. "But can Judas stay inside?"

"Outside?" Mark said startled. "No, you're all sleeping inside."

"That would be too much trouble. We are with thirteen, and we stay two weeks. This house isn't a palace."

"I don't care," said Mark stubborn. "If you all help now and then everything will be all right."

Jesus looked at Mark and smiled. "You haven't to look far to find a noble."


	4. Chapter 4

Peter turned around, tossing about. He couldn't sleep. He sighed and lay listening to the sounds in the house. Next to him he heard the soft snoring of Andrew, which mingled with the soft breathing of the others. They all lay on the ground, under their blankets. They were quite used to it, but Peter thought soft forest ground lay better than the wooden floor. He opened his eyes and watched the silver pools of moonlight which fell through the window above Judas' bed. One of them fell at Jesus' face, which made him look like an angel of Heaven. His head rested in Mary's lap. The girl leaned against the wall, mouth slightly open and a hand on Jesus' hair.

Judas made a movement and moaned when he ended up on his wounded side. He tried to draw himself up, but fell again on his wound. A little cry escaped his lips and Jesus raised his head.

"Judas?"

"Jesus?" Judas managed to draw himself up once more. Even from the other side of the room Peter could see him tremble, almost collapsing again.

"Let me help you." Jesus supported him until he lay on his back again. Then he sat down at the bedside, so Peter couldn't see Judas' head anymore. "How do you feel?"

"Terrible." He sounded washed out. "Could I get something to drink?"

"Of course." Jesus moved through the room, avoiding everyone and disappearing in the other room. He returned with a cup, which he held against Judas' lips. "Would you like something to eat as well?"

"No thanks, I become sick at the idea."

There was a silence for a minute, and then Jesus whispered: "You acted very brave."

"It's alright, Jesus, I've told you already. Every other apostle would've done the same and I'm sure…"

"I don't mean that," Jesus interrupted. "I mean when you woke up. You were dying of pain, and you still laughed."

"Oh, that." Judas was silent, and then continued: "They otherwise all would've gone mad, wouldn't they, if I said I could hardly move."

"It was very brave."

"No, it wasn't. It was necessary."

There fell a silence again, but it was a friendly silence. Peter knew Judas was watching Jesus. Suddenly Judas grasped Jesus' hand. "Jesus… You care about me, don't you?"

Jesus laughed softly. "Well, I don't think I'd live to see the day that Judas Iscariot asked a stupid question. Of course, Judas, I care about you." He added teasing, like Peter's little nephews always did: "But only if you care about me too. Do you?"

"Yes… Yes! A- a lot." Judas voice had a strange, hoarse rang to it. Jesus laughed again, a light, soft, beautiful sound. It was clear he thought it was an innocent kind of game.

"Jesus…" Judas started, but he was interrupted by a soft noise. "What was that?"

"Oh, that was Mary." His voice grew soft and fond and he turned his head so he could look at her. "She always makes little noises when she sleeps."

"Really?" Peter heard an icy edge in Judas' voice, but Jesus didn't seem to notice.

"Yes. She's been sitting with me all the time you were asleep. I think she's really fond of you."

Judas snorted. "Really, I do think she is. She's been helping me all the time while a cured you."

"Jesus, are you blind? I hate her and she can't stand me," Judas flared out.

"That's not true," Jesus said, slightly frightened by Judas' hard tone. "Why wouldn't you like her? She's wonderful."

"You're such an idiot!"

"Judas!" Jesus sounded more hurt than angry. "Why did you say that for?"

"If you can't figure it out yourself, I won't tell you," Judas snapped. He turned at his not-wounded side, showing Jesus his back. Jesus sat for a moment stupefied. Then he decided Judas' bad mood had to come from his frustration about his wound and thought it better to leave him alone. He lay down again, his head in Mary's lap. Peter saw in the moonlight that he anxious watched Judas' silent back.

Peter sighed, decided he'd better sleep some more. There would come problems of that, he thought.

His mind wandered, and he thought of the night they had met Judas. They had been with few, the followers of Jesus; he, his brother Andrew, James, with John of course, and Phillip. Jesus must have been travelling for six months then. They had met a shepherd on the way, a talkative little man, who had, in order of the laws of hospitality, invited them to a cottage where he "and a friend o' 'is" would stay for the night with their herds.

They entered the little cottage, which was small but tidy, with a grant table and a couple of chairs and a hearth with a burning, crackling fire. At the table sat a long, thin, rather old man with a friendly face, who smiled when he saw the little shepherd come in. he raised an eyebrow when the apostles and Jesus had entered, but he kept his friendly gaze.

"Friends of you, Joses?"

"Strangers, Luke," the little shepherd said cheerful. "With no place t' sleep an' nothin' t' eat, so I thought: let's make 'em comfortable."

Luke nodded. "Good idea."

"Whoosh, icy out there, don' ye think? Good we've got a fire 'ere."

"Judas put it on," said Luke while Jesus and the others took place around the table.

"Judas?" Joses swung around, and they all only now noticed a young man in the corner, absorbed in a book. He looked up when Joses said his name out loud and looked rather surprised. It seemed like he hadn't noticed anyone had entered. He got a mocking smile on his face and keen, black eyes.

"Hello, Judas!" Joses said loud and jovial, at a way that made clear he tried to hide his uneasiness. "How are ye, eh? Hadn't seen ye sittin' in that corner."

"I'm fine, thank you, Joses," the man replied. The light played over his handsome, rather dark features. "Did you bring home guests?"

"Yeah, this is…" He turned towards Jesus and the apostles, then realised he didn't know their names and it was against the laws of hospitality to ask them and started to mutter. "Ehh…" Judas watched him with an amused look.

"I am Simon Peter," interrupted Peter at a sign of Jesus. "This is my brother Andrew, James, his brother John, Phillip and Jesus."

In Luke's eyes there was a spark of recognition, and Judas bowed forward. " The Jesus? Jesus of Nazareth?"

Jesus smiled. "I'm not aware of another Jesus of Nazareth, so yes, I suppose I am."

"Ha! But I've heard abou' ye then," Joses exclaimed. "You're the guy who talks abou' God an'…"

He was interrupted by Judas. "Let's stay polite, Joses," he said. "We haven't offered our guests any food."

Joses quickly darted away, muttering to himself and searching in his bag for the food he had token with him but couldn't find, while Luke and Judas together managed to make enough food for everyone. Finally Joses gave up and joined them. "It'd probably've tasted terribly," he admitted.

It was quite cosy after all. Andrew and John teased each other; Phillip, James and Joses discussed the ways of raising sheep and Peter found a very good companion in Luke. Only Jesus was silent. He frowned at his bread, like it was a difficult exercise he had to solve. Judas too didn't spoke a word. He gazed in the fire, lost in thought.

After the meal (which was rather good, seeing it existed out of bread, water and some cheese), they all sat around the fire. That is, all except Judas, who disappeared outside. Joses looked so relieved that Andrew curious asked what was so terrible about that Judas before Peter could stop him.

"Well kiddo," Joses said. "That's quite a story. You'd better ask Luke 'ere, 'e tells it better than me. 'E 'as a wonderful voice."

Luke looked a little annoyed, but however said: "Judas Iscariot is born in our village. He was always a very active, smart little boy. I remember that the teacher of the Hebrew school told me that judas always asked him everything. He was very curious and had to know how everything worked. At his fifth he got a little sister, Lisa, and I don't think someone could love his sister more than he." Luke used very common words, but like Joses had said, he had a wonderful voice that made the story come alive. "He sat next to her at day, and replaced his bed so he would wake up if she cried at night. She was a beautiful baby. Everyone talked about her, you can imagine how proud his parents were. But then, it must be sixteen years ago- Judas was seven- there was a fire. It destroyed Judas' family's entire house. Judas ran back to get his sister out of the fire, but there fell a burning rafter fell on him. He still has a giant burn from it. He saved his sister, though. We all stood outside, waiting, while Marius- his dad- tried to control Esther- his mother- who wanted to run in the house. And then he suddenly burst out the house, totally covered with ash, Lisa in his arms.

"He hardly left her alone after that, like the girl would disappear if he went away. But his father started to get old; he had to help with the herd. And at one day,- it must've been… seven years ago- a neighbour- an old lady- found at Lisa a big, black ulcer." Everybody around the fire fell silent. A big, black ulcer- the sign of the plague. "She took the girl immediately to a doctor, however no one had money. But when she told him what she had found, he made time for her." Luke played with the end of his beard for a moment and then resumed: "It was the start of the plague, but it wasn't infectious yet. Lisa was immediately taken to the plague house, of course."

Peter knew that whoever got into the plague house, never got out it again. If you hadn't been infected before that, you were the moment you set foot there. "But when Judas came home and heard what had happened, we had to stop him with all the men of the village, or he'd have gone to there and got her out of there. When he realised everybody would stop him, he said to me, very calm: 'It's all right, Luke you can let go. I won't do anything.' So we let go of him, still careful of course, and he went into his house. Five minutes later he came out again, completely packed. His mother wept and threw herself at his feet, and his father cried, but he left, without looking back. We didn't see him again, until last year, he suddenly turned up. We first didn't recognise him. He walked through the village like he just had been away for an hour and stepped in his old house. Only when he kissed his mother and embraced his father we recognised him. But he has changed. He isn't happy or cheerful anymore, he's silent, and when he talks, it's mocking and cold. He does he's job, he sleeps, eats, drinks… But that's all.

"He used to tell wonderful stories, but now… I'll never forget the first evening we asked him to tell us something. It was the evening he'd arrived, so we hadn't noticed there was something wrong. We wanted him to tell us something he'd seen while he was away. And… he opened his mouth, tried to speak. It was like he'd lost the ability to talk. He closed it again, and shook his head. It was horrible. I know it sounds weird, but it was. It was like the sky had suddenly turned red. It wasn't right. Judas was the boy who everybody astonished with his stories, the laughing, active, talkative little boy had disappeared."

"An' don' forget the rumours," Joses interrupted.

Luke looked annoyed again. "That were only rumours," he said in an off-hand way.

"Yeah, yeah." Joses turned to them again. "Ye should 'ear them. They say 'e 'as 'ad a relation with a _man_." John gasped, but Luke declared he didn't believe a word of it. Joses continued though, and Luke folded his arms and muttered something about 'trouble-stirrers and backbiters'.

"They say they've been caught, an' when they'd been tortured, so they'd admit their crime, Judas escaped with the 'elp o' a thief an' a devil. They say the priest who condemned 'im still's afte' 'im. So ye can imagine nobody really feels comfy when Judas's around, can ye." Joses bowed forward, with a blink. "Did ye know, by-the-by…" He stopped and became pale, staring at the door. They all turned around.

Judas Iscariot leaned against the door-post. He was as pale as Joses and his black eyes were at fire while he looked at the frightened man. "I'll tell you something, Joses," he said and his voice quavered. "It was a trap, we weren't caught. It was a lousy, stinky trap and the _man_-" he spit the word out. "-knew about it. Yes, I've been tortured, and yes, I've escaped, but there were no thieves or devils, just a drunk guard. What have you to say now?" Everyone looked at Joses again, but he opened his mouth and closed it again, like a gold fish. He was scared to death.

Judas laughed, bitter and mocking. "You were always such a goddamned coward." He looked around and everyone avoided his gaze. Peter couldn't stand to look in the accusing dark eyes. Only Jesus looked back, friendly and almost interested, like he was a rare species. Then Judas turned around and walked away.

After a silence Jesus stood up. "Where are you going?" asked Peter.

"After that Judas," he replied simply.

"Are you sure? I think he'd rather want to be alone."

"No, I don't think so," Jesus smiled. "I think I'd like to talk to him. He looks like a very interesting person." And he disappeared through the door.

They all sat around the fire, and after some time they all started to talk politely again, avoiding the subject Judas. Peter thought about him, though, and he knew everybody else did so too. He couldn't help but admiring him. He might be a dangerous man, like Joses said, but Peter didn't believe that. He looked like a smart, brave man. He hoped Jesus could talk to him and explain him they didn't feel about him like Joses did. He was sure Jesus didn't think him bad either. Without knowing why, he stood up, walked over to the corner Judas had sat before and picked up the book he had been reading. He frowned. There were strange signs in it. It wasn't Hebrew, but no Latin either, 'cause he knew Latin.

"That's Greek," said Luke to him. He had seen what Peter had in his hand.

"Can he read Greek?" asked Peter surprised.

"Oh, he can read Hebrew and Latin too," grinned Luke. "He's learned a lot while he was away."

Peter nodded and laid the book back. Without a good reason, he went outside and looked at the sheep. He thought he heard something and sneaked to a tree. He looked… and saw Jesus and Judas. Jesus sat at the foot of a tree and Judas sat beside him, not looking at Jesus, but talking. Peter couldn't catch the words, but he heard Judas talking rather hysteric and fast. Sometimes he stroked with his hand over his eyes. Jesus gently said something and thick tears trickled down Judas' face. He turned away but Jesus laid a friendly hand on his shoulder and put his arm around Judas. Judas pushed his face against Jesus' chest and cried softly.

Peter sneaked back to the cottage.

The next morning Judas was already gone, Luke was leaving and Joses still slept.

"He always leaves early in the morning," Luke explained while they got up. "He's a very good shepherd, whatever Joses may tell you. Well, I've got to go." He shook everyone's hand. "It was nice meeting you. When you're around, you'll always find an open door with me. Farwell." He left.

They waited until Joses was awake and bade him farewell.

Jesus didn't speak about what he or Judas had said, and after some time John couldn't wait anymore and asked Jesus what had happened.

Jesus didn't look at anyone for some time and hummed softly a song. Then he said: "He's a strange man. He's lonely of course. But he's very intelligent. You know what he said? 'I loved that man really. Why is love a crime?'" He hummed some more, while they all thought about those words.

"I wish he'd come with us," Phillip suddenly said. Jesus nodded.

"So do I," Peter said, without really knowing why.

"And I," James said. Andrew and John agreed.

On a stone on the way a man sat. He stood up when they passed. It was Judas. He looked at them all and finally said: "May I join?"

Jesus laughed, a light, soft, beautiful and innocent sound.


	5. Chapter 5

**About the last chapter, I have no idea if the plague already existed in that time. That was just for the story. It is true Romans had no objection towards gay people, but the Jews had.**

It had been clear the moment she had seen him, thought Mary. Ruth had become red, and she was clearly a girl that could fall in love with a hero. Or his reputation. Nowadays you could hardly get her out of the room Judas lay in. She stared at him the moments she thought he didn't notice her, laughed when he made a joke, fenced around him while swaying her hips and batting her eyelashes. And of course, Mary thought annoyed, manly as he was, Judas didn't notice her at all. It would surprise her if he knew Ruth's name. The girl was getting desperate. It wouldn't take long anymore before she would come to Mary for advice. And she had no idea what to say to her.

Jesus would still walk around and talk to everyone, of course. But not all the apostles went with him. Two or three stayed in the house, with Judas. Ruth and Mary stayed always, and she started to wish she could go into town too. Judas kept being harsh and mean to her. She talked a lot with Ruth, and noticed the girl was still a child. But she was very nice, and cared a lot about her brother.

After a week, when it was almost evening and Jesus and the others would almost arrive, Mary and Ruth decided to chuck all the men out of the kitchen, so they could eventually take a bath.

"You're not serious, Mary!" moaned John.

"Yes I am," she said firmly while she pushed him outside. "And you should think about that too. I hardly smell a difference between you and Andrew."

She heard Judas laugh, and looked up surprised. He had never been nice to her. He lay tempting stretched out on the bed, leaning on one elbow. The light of the flames danced over his naked chest. John blushed, muttered something dark and went over to Mark.

"The little whore's a point you know," Judas said with a twinkle in the eyes. "You all reek terribly. I'm even surprised you still got people who want to listen to you."

Mary felt her cheeks burning. Did he have to talk about that? "I'm not a whore," she hissed.

He observed her, one eyebrow raised. "May I congratulate you then on a perfect imitation."

She stared at him, trying to strain her anger and desire to fly at him. Mark, John, Thaddeus and James all watched them anxious. They didn't know which side to choose.

"I'd rather be a whore," she said quavering. "Then such an asshole like you are."

She just congratulated herself on having the last word in the argument, when he with a sardonic smile made a half bow. "I feel flattered."

She slammed the door and trembling turned to Ruth. She hadn't heard the conversation, because she was filling the bath, and stared surprised at Mary. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," Mary replied and managed to smile. "Nothing."

Ruth emptied a bucket in the tub, and then, hesitating, asked: "Mary… what must I do? I mean… he hardly notices me, I think."

"He's a man, dear," she answered. "They don't notice anything till you push it right under their nose."

Ruth giggled. "Jesus noticed you."

"We are not married, or anything of the kind."

"Admit it, Mary. It's a public secret you two like each other," Ruth grinned, while she fiddled with her dress.

Mary pushed some hair out of her eyes and calm helped her. "Well… I don't know. That was kind of… an accident. We both didn't plan it, and to admit it, we're both quite shy about it. It's quite different in comparison with you and Judas."

"What do you think of Judas?"

Mary was silent. She remembered the first time she had met Judas. Jesus had saved her from the angry crowd, and had introduced her then in an old temple to the apostles.

She remembered the surprised and searching look on Jesus' face when there were only eleven people to present her to. "Where is Judas?"

"Oh," Andrew answered laughing. "I believe he went to the poor once more. Someone gave him money, so he had to hand out it again."

"Are you talking about me?" a voice said. They all turned around. A dark, handsome man walked over to them. "Hi, Jesus."

"Judas!" Jesus smiled. There was a friendly twinkle in his eyes. "This is Mary Magdalene."

She smiled a little shyly. There came a mocking smile on his face. He observed her, like she was some sort of dirty insect. Her smile froze. He turned to Jesus and asked loud: "Well, you seem to have more money than I knew. A prostitute like her can't be cheap." Then he walked away.

Jesus was for a moment stupefied and amazed. Then he turned to her. "I apologize, Mary. Normally he isn't like that."

"It's alright," she said, with a strained smile.

"No, it's not," Jesus said angrily. Then he turned around and went after Judas. They could occasionally hear them, when they raised their voices in their argument.

After that Judas had acted very politely towards her, but he had never lost his biting, sarcastic manner.

"I can't say I like him, Ruth," Mary sighed while she stepped in the tube. "He always acts like I've insulted him. But I'm sure there's a good reason," she said hastily when she saw the hurt expression on Ruth's face. "I mean, I didn't. I've even done my best being nice to him, because he's Jesus' best friend, but he keeps being unfriendly to me. Don't say you haven't noticed."

The girl was silent for a moment, and eventually nodded. "You're right, I suppose," she said dour.

"Well… do you know what I should do?" Ruth asked after an uneasy silence.

"Well… are you sure he's the right guy for you?"

Ruth's eyes blazed. "Of course he is."

"I mean, we leave over a week again, Ruth. What will you do then? Would you leave your brother behind?"

There was a spark of hesitation in her eyes. "Of…Of course."

"You would give everything up for a man you hardly know. Never see your family again."

"You… You did."

"I didn't have a home like you have. I slept on the street and I had no friends or anything."

She saw that the girl felt very uncomfortable and was silent for the rest of the time.

After two weeks, Judas wasn't totally better, but they couldn't keep him in bed any longer. So they prepared to leave. Mark tried to convince them to stay longer, but Jesus told him sternly that it was a miracle he wasn't ruined by feeding thirteen more people. After that Mark didn't object anymore, but it was clear he didn't like it.

When they stood outside the house, he embraced everyone, almost tears in the eyes. Peter was slightly amused by that, but made sure his face hid his feelings. Ruth shook everyone's hand and embraced Mary once. Peter saw she watched Judas, who was thanking Mark with Jesus, and she hesitated. The girl had been crazy about him. The first week she had tried to attract his attention by being loud and tempting, and the second week she had tried to act like an icy queen. Both methods hadn't worked. Peter had been almost been annoyed by Judas, who probably wouldn't have noticed her if she had stood naked before him, and he knew Mary thought the same. He saw his younger brother, Andrew, watching Ruth with adoration. That was another problem.

Ruth had made her decision, it seemed. She hastily walked over to her brother, Jesus and Judas. She put her arms around Judas' neck, gave him a clumsy kiss, which landed half on his cheek and half on his mouth, let go of him, turned around and ran away, to the city.

Judas looked so baffled Simon started to laugh. Some apostles followed his example and even Jesus wore an amused smile on his face. Mark and Andrew stared in the direction Ruth had run into.

"Why did she do that?" Judas asked weakly, robbing the place she had kissed him.

Mary's eyes were on fire. "Why?" she screamed. "Because she likes you, you big idiot!"

Judas was so perplexed he even forgot his mocking attitude. "Me?"

"I'm surprised too," Simon chuckled.

"Yeah," Judas muttered. He hadn't heard what Simon had said. Then he suddenly looked up. "Hey!"

All the apostles started to laugh again.

Jesus turned to Mark. "I'm afraid we have to go."

"Yes," Mark said. He looked as bewildered as Judas. "I'll have to calm down Ruth."

"Tell her I'm sorry, will you," Judas said, suddenly awake. "I didn't know."

"Yes," Mark mumbled. "Thanks. And- um- well, Judas, eh- I normally should beat you up, I suppose, for hurting my sister, but eh- I suppose you couldn't help it either. Well, good journey." He smiled, still surprised, and left.

"Let's go," Jesus said.

"Yeah," Judas muttered. He added towards Simon: "Shut up, now!"

"You- you…" Tears trickled down Simon's face.

"I can't help it I'm so handsome."

"You, handsome?" Simon chuckled, weeping away his tears.

"In comparison with you. But I suppose that is a terrible argument." In addition to Bartholomew, John, James, James and Phillip, who all now roared with laughter, Simon stopped quite suddenly.

**What do you think of it? Please review and tell me! (What do you think, Claire?) **


	6. Chapter 6

That evening the apostles still hadn't stopped pressing the event. They laughed when they sat up the camp in the forest. They laughed when they ate. They laughed when they talked about it, and they kept talking about it.

Judas sat before the fire, a little whimsical and casting angry looks when someone laughed too hard. Peter saw Jesus and Mary didn't laugh either. They were talking softly to each other, and when Judas didn't look to an apostle, he watched them, inscrutable.

Once Jesus saw him looking. He raised his eyebrows questioning, and an inviting hand made an elegant movement. Judas only looked angrier and stared in the fire. Jesus had a confused expression on his face, sighted and talked with Mary again.

"Has anyone had some news?" Peter asked, starting to get bored by the repeated anecdotes.

"Yes," Bartholomew said immediately. "I've met a peasant, and he told me that in Amman-"

-the city they would go next- "Ananias'll arrive at the same time as we." Ananias, Peter knew, was a Hebrew priest who hunted down gay people and lesbians, and everyone who did 'unnatural sexual crimes'. The most people were afraid of him, for he didn't always get guilty people. It wouldn't be the first time Ananias would brand an innocent. If anyone was accused, he would be tortured until he admitted, then he would be brand and if Ananias ever met him again, he would be hanged.

Jesus became pale and spinned round, to the place were Judas sat. Or rather, had sat, for he now rummaged in his knapsack.

"Judas," Jesus called softly. Judas turned towards him. There was sweat on his brow, and a hunted look in his eyes.

"I've got to go, Jesus," he muttered.

"Yes. But tomorrow. The city is far enough." For a moment it seemed like Judas wanted to argue, but then he flopped down.

"What's going on?" Peter asked. There were distrustful faces all around the fire.

Judas answered with another question. "Don't you remember? Peter, Phillip, Andrew, James, John?" He laughed, with an undertone of fear, so he quickly stopped, and added: "They say the priest who condemned 'im still's afte' 'im."

Peter saw comprehension coming on the faces of the others Judas had named as they all thought back of a little cottage.

"Do you mean… he's the priest?" Phillip asked incredulously. Judas nodded.

"What's going on?" Simon asked suspicious.

"We'll have to tell them, Judas," Jesus said calm. Judas swallowed and nodded.

"Why don't you, Nazareth," he said hoarse, avoiding everyone's eyes. He stood up and walked away.

So Jesus did. He told the tale of Judas, but without his youth. The other things, though, he told more elaborate. He told how Judas had arrived in a small village. How he had fallen in love with a handsome man there. How when he confessed his love the guards had come in and arrested him. How he had been tortured by Ananias. How he had escaped.

When he had done, it was silent around the fire. Peter looked around and knew the most wouldn't trust Judas as they had before, though everyone would accept him. Inside, he sighted.

Jesus looked around too, innocent and friendly. Peter saw Matthew, the youngest James and Simon avoiding his eyes. Mary watched them and had a fire in her eyes.

"Do you have a problem with that?" she suddenly snapped at the three. They looked taken aback.

"Well… Mary…" James mumbled. "It's…"

"I don't care what it is!" Her eyes blazed and she was clearly furious. Jesus looked surprised at her. "It's still Judas! He'll still be as annoying, mocking and sarcastic as ever! He won't suddenly start to kiss you!" The three looked at each other uncomfortable.

"Well… Oh, what the hell," Simon said. "Of course I have no problem with that."

Jesus beamed as the ten agreed with Simon. "You are all wonderful," he smiled.

"As long as he isn't in love with any of us," Matthew muttered.

"Why don't you ask him, Matthew?" Peter said and before Matthew could stop him, he shouted: "Judas!"

After a few seconds Judas appeared. He looked around challenging, but when he was met by chortling faces, who glanced from him to Matthew, who had become red, he stopped dead.

"Nobody objects to your presence, Judas," reported John. "But Matthew's something to ask you."

Judas surprised eyed Matthew, who muttered his question. He looked around again, but when no one seemed hostile, he got his mocking attitude back. He tried to sound icy, but the great grin on his face didn't help much. "Just how attractive do you think you are and how desperate do you think I am?"

Everyone laughed and even Matthew chuckled bashful along.

When it was calm again and everybody talked as nothing had happened, Peter went over to sit next to Jesus. He had a question for him.

"Jesus," Peter whispered. "What would you have done if they couldn't understand Judas?"

Jesus sighted and looked around. "It would be a shame to lose such good men for a prejudice."

Peter smiled. It was the answer he had hoped for.

When everybody lay under their blankets and was supposed to sleep, Mary felt a prod against her shoulder. She looked up. It was Judas.

He watched her awkward and peevish. "I… I just… Thanks. For defending me." He almost sounded angry; like it was her fault he thanked her!

"You're welcome," she said friendly.

He almost watched her suspiciously. "This doesn't change anything. I still hate you."

Her anger rose. "And why is that, Mr. Iscariot?"

He shrugged, his eyes blazing. He had only thanked her because he found you had to. He still didn't like her and he never would. He stood up and walked to his own blanket, which lay as far as possible of hers and Jesus's.


	7. Chapter 7

"Stop walking around, Nazareth. Judas won't come quicker if you keep doing that," Andrew said.

Jesus didn't listen and kept walking in circles. He anxious frowned at the floor. "Ananias already left this morning. Where can he be?"

It was evening and they had found an old temple in town. Like always there was a fire on the floor and they all sat around it. Well, all except Jesus, thought Peter. Since they had heard Ananias had left the city, they had been waiting for Judas to show up. But so far, he hadn't. Their uneasiness had grown when they got the message that Ananias had token three men as prisoner with him. Jesus hadn't sat since this morning and around noon Matthew had surprised everyone by snorting he himself had been a villain, after which he blew his nose.

"Please, Jesus, You're making me dizzy," James pleaded.

"He should be here now! They can't have caught him," Jesus muttered. "He promised me he'd return!" He fell down beside Mary and pushed his hands against his forehead. Peter noticed how tired he looked. He had bags under his eyes and kept rubbing in them. "What should I do, Mary?"

"Nothing, Jesus, you'll just have to wait," she said soothing. She gently removed his hair out of his face. "Maybe he waits until it's dark."

"Do you think so?"

"Of course." She kept caressing him.

"Yeah," Simon helped a bit. "You'll see. Over a few moments he'll be here, telling how he got away from some guards, and then John'll convince him to play that weird game, you know, riming on the spot or something, and all will be right again. You can't keep Judas away, even if you want him to." There was some laughter and Jesus looked a little bit more at ease.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Simon, but there were no guards," a voice above them said. They looked up and saw Judas' face through the hole in the roof, through which the smoke escaped. Is that because of the smoke, or is he looking angry? thought Peter.

"Oh no, Judas," James said dramatically and some laughed. Judas grabbed the rim of the hole, made a sort-of-forward roll, so that he only hold the rim with the tips of his fingers, hung for a moment motionless, let himself fall and made in the middle of the fall a somersault, so he caused himself to land next to the fire. The apostles applauded and whistled and Jesus came forward to welcome Judas, with shining eyes and a friendly smile, like he had found some long-lost brother.

When he saw Jesus, Judas stepped backwards, and made a bow that was too deep to be polite. It was now very clear he was angry. Jesus, sensing there was something wrong, stopped and there fell a silence. "My Lord," Judas said loud.

"Lord?" Peter repeated, not understanding.

Jesus looked calmly at Judas. "Don't call me like that, Judas." He showed him his back and rubbed in his eyes again.

Judas stared angry at Jesus and then turned towards Simon. "You were talking about that game of John, weren't you?"

Simon nodded. "You know, the one you have to rime something. The one you always win," he added with a grin.

"Well, I've got one," Judas said shortly and turned to Jesus again. He took some steps forward, till he was so close he almost touched Jesus. If one of them moved, they would. He tried to catch Jesus' eye over his shoulder, but Jesus looked away, though not walking away.

"Nazareth your famous son," Judas said with a dark smirk, watching Jesus' face.

"Should have stayed the great unknown

Like his father carving wood-" Jesus started, as if he wanted to look over his shoulder and say something, but Judas made a quick movement and stood again behind him.

"He'd have made good

Table, chair and oaken chest

Would have suited Jesus best," He nudged Jesus with his shoulder, so he had to take a small step forward to prevent himself from falling down. He clenched his teeth and kept looking at the ground.

"He'd have caused nobody harm

No one alarm!"

It was silent for a moment and then Jesus turned around. "Would you please _tell_ me what you're angry about before you start to blame me for it?" he said with a quivering voice.

Judas looked almost suspiciously at Jesus and then replied: "I've heard how they call you now when you're not around you know how?" a dark, bitter smirk. "The son of God. The holy one. The Lord. King of the Jews. The anointed one. Jesus Christ. If he looks at you, you're wonderful. If he touches you, you're blessed. And if you're one of the apostles, you're blessed five times, and bowing angels'll open the gate of heaven for you. They're starting to worship you more than God himself."

They all listened amazed. When Judas stopped, Jesus said very slowly: "I haven't chosen for that, Judas."

"You've got to stop it. You know what the high priest are thinking and discussing? How to get rid of Christ, who even starts to get followers under the Romans. The people say you can do miracles." He grabbed Jesus' shoulders, talking faster and faster. "That you've healed cripples just by touching them. That you've fed a mob with three fishes and one bread, you walked over water, changed water in wine… They think you're the new Messiah, Jesus!"

"Stop it, Judas."

"In the start we didn't call you God, you were a man. I still admire you, Jesus. But every word that comes out of your mouth gets twisted round some other way! They'll hurt you if they think you've lied." Jesus looked away, and Judas changed tack. "Do you even care for you're people? Don't you see we must keep in our place? We are occupied! Have you forgotten that? The Romans don't want another noisy sect and they'll crush us if we go too far!"

"Stop it, Judas, _please_." Jesus voice was barely over a whisper.

"Listen to me, Jesus. I'm giving you a warning. I only want our good! All this's gone sour! Our changes are weakening with every minute. Everyone has gone mad about you! They've got too much Heaven on their minds. Listen, Jesus! I only want us to live!" His voice grew louder and louder.

"Stop!" Jesus walked away from Judas, breathing loudly.

"Jesus Christ, who are you, what have you sacrificed? Jesus Christ Superstar, do you think you're what they say you are-"

"JUDAS!"

"JESUS!"

"Stop it now, _please_!" Jesus begged.

"Not until you listen to me!"

Mary got on her feet. "Don't you see," she said, her voice trembling so hard from anger they could hardly understand her, "he's tired? He's been worrying about you all day! Leave him alone!"

Judas looked coldly at her. "I've got problems I have to discuss with him. Stay out of this, Magdalene."

"Those problems won't walk away. They'll still be here tomorrow. And unfortunately, you'll still be here too." She took Jesus' hand and he looked at Judas again.

"Please, Judas," he whispered. "Can't we discuss this in the morning?"

Judas made a mocking bow again. "As my Lord wishes," he sneered, and walked away.


	8. Chapter 8

They all sat around the fire. It was funny how they end up like this every night, Peter thought. Like always, Jesus was talking to someone (now John) while the others listened. Peter wondered where Judas was. He had left around noon, without a word. Peter had seen Jesus looking around too, but since they had fought so many times the past weeks, Jesus probably felt relieved. Peter looked around again and noticed Matthew wasn't there either. Well, he would show up.

And indeed, two minutes later, Matthew appeared at the border of the field. He wore a big grin on his face and had several little bottles in his hands.

"Look at this!" he said cheerful. "Got it from some peasants I met. Brandy!" he sat down and started passing the bottles around the fire. Peter got one first. He carefully took a bit. Too strong, he thought, I'll bet those peasants brewed it themselves. He pulled a face, which caused laughs, and passed it on to a very eager James (the youngest). Jesus looked at the bottles, clearly not approving. Then he apparently decided they just wanted some fun, shrugged and continued to talk to John.

"Can I have some too?" Judas' voice asked. The owner appeared at the other side of the fire, just behind Jesus. Bartholomew almost jumped. "Damn, Judas you always give me a heart attack when you do that. Lucky I'm still alive."

"Lucky?" Andrew asked. "I'd call it misfortune. For us, that is." Laughter. Peter watched Judas and Jesus. The first stared challenging at the other, although Jesus couldn't see him because he sat with his back towards Judas. Jesus stared just as hard at the fire, clearly saying that he wouldn't row with Judas tonight. The strange battle took some more moments, Judas trying to force Jesus to look at him, which probably would be followed by an argument, and Jesus refusing.

Finally Judas grudgingly looked up, indicating Jesus had won. "Give me a bottle of that, will you, Matthew."

Matthew threw a bottle towards Judas, who caught it. "Careful. It's no water."

"It better not be," grumbled Judas, taking a seat as far as possible from Jesus. He put the bottle at his lips and started to drink. The other bottle passed Peter again, but he thanked for it. He'd like to stay sober.

Some time later, Judas caught his fifth bottle out midair. He was clearly drunk, although his dark eyes and reflexes were just as alert as usual. He leaned back, staring at the sky. Jesus hesitated, then stood up and walked towards him. He knelt down beside Judas. "Judas, you know I don't like it when you drink so much," he said softly.

Judas looked him in the eye and then slowly, not leaving his eyes of Jesus, put the bottle back at his lips, taking a gulp. Jesus sighed. "I won't make you. I just'd like you to stop. It doesn't do you any good."

"Don't you've got some lepers you got to cure, _Christ_?" the emphasis on the last word was mocking and bitter.

Jesus closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them again and laid a hand on Judas' shoulder. "Judas." His voice was soft and pleading. This didn't go about the drinking. "Why can't it be like it used to be?"

Peter noticed how tired they both looked. When he answered, Judas voice was barely above a whisper. "Just leave me alone, Nazareth." He stood slowly up and walked away. Jesus stared in the fire. You make many problems, my friend, Peter said in his thoughts against Judas' silent back.

* * *

Mary found Jesus in the labyrinth of halls of the temple they had occupied in Jerusalem. He looked very pale, had sweat on his brown and had to lean against a pillar in order to stay erect.

"Jesus?" He started and looked terribly frightened, but when he saw her, a look of pure relief came on his face.

"Mary." His voice trembled as much as he himself.

"What's the matter?" She gently took his hand and stroke his sweaty hear from his forehead.

"There w-were begg-ggars an-and lep-pers and they w-were wi-with s-so m-many!" His voice broke off and he started to weep. She held him against her and he hid his face in her hair, where he continued to talk. "I'm s-so scar-red Mary! Everyth-thing is go-going wrong. Nob-body rea-really lis-stens to what I-I s-say anym-more an-and Sim-mon and the oth-thers on-only wha-ant t-to fight an-and every-o-one ca-alls m-me Christ now an-and Judas i-is s-so an-angry with m-me and h-he on-only ta-talks to m-me to bl-blame m-me for s-something an-and I don't know w-what to _do_ anymore!"

"Hush," she soothed, caressing him. "Try not to get worried. Try not to turn onto problems that upset you. Everything's alright. Everything's fine. You need to rest. We want you to sleep well tonight."

He shook his head. "N-No I c-can't. I ha-have t-to find the others an-and talk t-to them."

"You can't do that, Jesus. You're too tired. Let the world turn without you tonight."

"Y-Yes. You're right. I'm so exhausted, Mary." He closed his eyes and smiled at her. "I'm so glad you're here." Her heart made a tiny jump at those words.

* * *

Mary looked at Jesus. He lay sleeping on the ground, a smile on his lips that wouldn't have shamed an angel. His hair was spread out as a garland around his head. How sweet he was… How much she loved him… She put out her hands and touched, very carefully, his chest and shoulders. She bit on her under lip. Her fingers twiddled a lock of his hair. She bowed over him, while her mind screamed she should stop. She had intended to kiss his lips, but ended up half on his mouth, half on his cheek.

While his mouth twisted and he started to wake up, she suddenly looked up, sure she wasn't alone anymore.

Judas Iscariot looked at her, with a hand under his chin, a wicked smile and blazing eyes.

* * *

Peter walked through the huge temple in Jerusalem. He was searching for Mary, to ask if she had seen Jesus. While he walked, Peter reflected on the events of the day. He remembered their entrance in the city. When they had come through the gate, a crowd had been waiting, to honour Jesus. Peter remembered the heavenly smile on his face. Judas had walked at the end of the group, his expression scornful. Peter remembered the appearance of Caiaphas, the high-priest of the Romans, and Annas. They had ordered Jesus to send the crowd away. Jesus had refused. They had left. The look of pure hatred on Annas' face was not one he would lightly forget. But Jesus had smiled and spoken to them. And they had misunderstood it, Peter realised now. Not for the first time Peter wondered if Judas perhaps was right. He had looked so strange at Jesus, like he couldn't understand it. And when Jesus had intended to stand next to him, Judas had shifted away. And then the guards had come. Peter had hidden Mary, but kept watching. They shouldn't have fought. It was mostly Simon's fault, but without him it would have happened too, only later. Jesus' face had shown clear his horror. And Judas's, Peter thought, Judas's had shown clearly his concern.

He stopped for a stair which led to the balustrade between the pillars. He slowly ascended. Upstairs, he looked down and froze. Mary was leaning over a sleeping Jesus, had just kissed him. Now she looked up and stared at Judas, who was watching her. Jesus moved and woke up, also staring at Judas, who still had a strange smile on his face. Jesus sighed, reluctantly removing the blanket on him, expecting Judas was there to complain about something. Judas stood up, waiting for Jesus to get up, watching his friend from the corner of his eye. Jesus drew himself up, looking a little grudgingly and even a bit annoyed. Judas walked past him and knelt down at the other side of Mary. He grinned at Jesus, who frowned, not understanding. Mary sat frozen, quiet and eying Judas. Judas bowed very close to Mary, putting out his tongue, like he wanted to kiss her, and still watching Jesus. Jesus looked away, annoyed, almost angry. Judas withdrew at the moment Mary tried to hit him. He caught her wrist and smiled scornful at her. She looked at him with pure hatred. She stood up, looking from Jesus to Judas, who were only watching each other, and then angry departed. Judas took, close to uncertain a step forward and made a movement like he wanted to place his hand on his shoulder. Jesus raised his hand, shook his head and took a step backwards. Then he turned around and went after Mary. Judas watched him leave, his jaw tense. Then he also turned around and left with great determination, his eyes again blazing.

Peter sighed and walked away. It seemed like the problems had already started.

* * *

Not really my best chapter up till now. Well, I'll have to do better on my next. The Last Supper, that is. Long live reviews (hint, hint)! 


	9. Chapter 9

I've noticed I haven't put a disclaimer anywhere so now:

**Disclaimer:** I don't owe anything, it's all of ALW, Tim Rice and that guy upstairs who sits on a cloud, the onewith the big beard (or, like some call him, God). (snif) I always get very depressed by those disclaimers.

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John watched Jesus coming off the stairs, head pensive bowed. The white robe softly rustled when he stopped for the table they just had placed there. The apostles all grinned and looked happily at Jesus. Well, almost all, John thought when he saw Judas. Jesus' best friend hadn't even raised the head when he had come in. He stared at the ground, tossing the bottle of wine in his hands around.

Jesus slowly took the bottle of wine on the table and served the contents into the big cup. He took the cup up, holding it at eye level. When he started to speak, his voice was calm, but also unbearable sad.

"The end," Jesus said quietly, "is just a little harder when brought about by friends…" John frowning looked at his older brother, James, then at the others, and saw the other apostles do the same. What did Jesus mean? Judas' hand was now before his mouth. He was probably angry again, thought John irritated.

"For all you care, this wine could be my blood…" Jesus passed the cup to Peter, who sat next to him. Peter took almost carefully a sip and passed it also.

"For all you care, this bread could be my body…" Jesus took the bread that lay on the table and broke it in two, passing it also to the apostles left and right from him.

"This is my blood you drink…" John saw Simon, who just had drunk from the cup, looking up, shocked.

"This is my body you eat…"Thaddaeus, who just had a piece of the bread in his hands, quickly lay it on the table.

John looked at Jesus' face. God, he looked full of sorrow. "If you would remember me while you eat and drink." There was a deadly silence. It looked for a moment like Jesus would sit down, but then fury flashed up in his usual so friendly eyes and his fist hit the table with force. They all started, jumping up, and he shouted at them.

"I must be mad thinking I'll be remembered!" he yelled. "Yes, I must've been crazy! Look at all your blank faces!" he pointed, while they all stared at him. Only Judas still sat down, not looking at Jesus. "My name will mean nothing, ten minutes after I'm dead! One of you denies me and one of you betrays me!" They all started to shout, telling him it was not true, that no one would betray him. Only Judas _still_ sat down. John was getting very annoyed with him, till he saw Judas' face. There was plain fear on his features. Fear? Judas? John briefly thought before turning his attention to Jesus again.

Jesus stopped and pointed a finger at Peter, who stood at the other side of the table. At his words fell a heavy silence and they all backed away. "Peter will deny me, in just a few hours! And for three times!" Peter looked shocked, in disbelieve, his entire attitude asking how Jesus could say that. Jesus looked around, his face grim. He walked to the right side of the table, just opposite to Judas. "And that's not all. I see one of you here dining, one of my twelve chosen will leave to betray me!"

Judas finally stood up too, slamming on the table. "Would you please cut out the dramatics?" he sneered. "You know very well who-"

Jesus angry turned to him. "Why don't you go do it?"

Judas stood for a moment stupefied, but then furious ran towards Jesus. "You _want_ me to do it!"

Jesus was quicker though, and by the time Judas stood were he had been, Jesus stood at the other side of the table. "Hurry! They're waiting!"

"If you knew why I do it-" Judas tried, making an attempt to sound calm.

"I don't _care_ why you do it!" Jesus shouted, slamming the table again.

"To think I admired you, for now I despise you!" Judas grabbed the white tablecloth and pulled it of the table, so everything that had stood there clashed on the ground and was smashed. John and the other apostles watched like in a dream… It couldn't be Judas… it wasn't possibly _Judas_…

"You liar! You Judas!" Jesus pointed at his best friend.

"You want me to do it!" Judas ran again towards Jesus, but just like the last time Jesus was much quicker. "What if I just stayed here and ruined your ambitions? _Christ_, you deserve it!" Judas tried to sound mocking, but failed.

"Hurry, you fool!" Jesus yelled. "Hurry and go! Save me your speeches; I don't want to hear them! Go!" He pointed towards the exit.

Judas stepped on the table and started to walk towards Jesus, who just looked at him. All the apostles regained consciousness and ran towards Judas, shouting and trying to stop him. "You sad, pathetic man! See where we've come! Our ideals die around us, all because of you! And now the saddest cut! Someone _has_ to turn you in! Like a common criminal!" He had now reached Jesus and pushed him hard against the ground. "Like a wounded beast!" the apostles tried to get him off the table. John and Matthew walked over to Jesus to see if he was hurt, but he pushed them away. He walked away, and for a moment it looked like he would leave. "Like a faded lunatic!" shouted Judas after him.

Jesus abruptly stopped and also stepped on the table. "Get out, they're waiting!" He pointed again towards the exit. Judas looked at the ground and raised his hands, like he wanted to stop Jesus. Jesus tried to look him in the eye. "Get out! They're waiting, for you!"

Finally Judas looked up. "Every time I look at you, I don't understand why you let everything become like this!" Judas fell on his knees, his legs seemed unable to carry him anymore. "You'd have managed better if you had it under control! Jesus!" He put his arms around Jesus' knees, in a silent plea. His face was wet and his eyes closed. They all stared for some time. Jesus lowered his hands slowly, like he wanted to lay them on Judas' head. But before he could do so, Judas got up, stepped off the table and walked quickly away, dragging a hand through his hair. Jesus watched him go, in his face something like pity.

John suddenly felt very sleepy and listless. Kind of like the time Jesus had given him a sleeping draught. But now he hadn't got one, had he? He looked around. The other apostles looked as tired as he was. Some were already seeking a place to sleep. He tried to think. Maybe there had been a sleeping draught in something he had drunk. But he hadn't drunk at all that day. Or wait… this afternoon, they had, with the eleven of them (Jesus and Judas had refused), drunk an entire barrel with water empty… it had been in the neighbourhood of the Roman temple… The Roman priests... They had been poisoned… He sat down on the stairs and rubbed in his eyes, making an attempt to stay awake… Judas had gone to get the soldiers… They should get Jesus out of here… He found his head lying against a pillar. His eyelids were so heavy…

He thought he heard Jesus whispering. "Will no one stay awake with me? Peter, John, James? Will none of you wait with me? Peter, John, James?"

He _had_ to wake up…

Darkness.

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That was it for today. Hope you enjoyed it. Anyway, pleaaaaase review! 


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Don't owe anything (oh my, what a surprise!).

**Author's note:** The Arrest and The Denial. Oh, yes, Jump on the Frog, if you read this,THANK YOU SO MUCH! You really made my day!And thanks to all the others who've reviewed!

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Peter tried to blink. How long had he been sleeping? Too long, at any rate. They should get Jesus out of here. Judas…

He opened his eyes. The apostles lay shattered all around the temple, all asleep. Jesus stood in their midst, looking at something out of his view. He tried to turn his head, but found he couldn't. So he just watched. Judas stepped in the picture. He slowly walked towards Jesus, who looked at him. Judas stopped and they looked each other in the eye. Jesus opened his mouth and formed the words: "Why, Judas?" like he was unable to say it with sound. Judas suddenly bowed forward and pushed passionate his lips against Jesus' cheek. Jesus surprised raised his arms. Judas let go and stared at the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks. Jesus' cheek, saw Peter, was also wet. From Judas's tears.

Jesus closed his eyes for a moment, like he now understood everything. About time, Peter thought unwillingly. Then he heard Jesus voice, soft, friendly, like you would scold a child because it had done something wrong. "Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?"

Judas raised his hands and opened his mouth like he wanted to explain everything, but for once he was completely at loss for words. He just stood there, breathing heavily, watching the ground. Jesus softly touched the sides of his face. Judas pulled him towards him and, pushing his face against Jesus' chest, started to sob. For a moment Jesus stiffened, but then he laid his hand on Judas' back and stroked with the other Judas' hair.

Peter heard a sound next to him and managed to turn his head. He started. Annas and soldiers stood on the stairs. They quickly walked past Peter, who shook Simon's shoulder, who lay next to him, so he would wake up. "What's happening?" Peter said so loud everyone in the temple awoke.

The soldiers pulled Judas away from Jesus, pushing him so he landed against a pillar.

"Hang on, Jesus!" Peter jumped at one of the soldiers, a knife in his hand, but ended on the ground, pain in his stomach and without weapon.

"Put away your sword!" he heard Jesus say hastily. "Don't you know that it's all over? It was nice, but now it's gone." He kneeled next to Peter, who saw the knife in Jesus hand. He looked almost imploringly at Peter. "Why are you obsessed with fighting? Stick to fishing, you all." He stood up and gave the knife to Annas. "I'm ready to go."

Annas gave him a suspicious look, shrugged and gestured to two soldiers they could take Jesus away. He looked around once, smiling sadly to them all. "Take care of them, Peter," he said calmly.

"Take him there too, but be nice," Annas snapped to the other soldiers, pointing at Judas. They walked over to him. He still sat on the ground and they hoisted him on his feet. After that they dragged him along, for he hardly seemed to know where he was.

"Peter!" What happened?" Peter looked up. Mary ran to them. "Where's Jesus? And Judas? What happened? Peter? Matthew? Thomas? John?" She flew from the one to the other. "Tell me what happened!" Her voice started to sound hysterical.

"Where did they go?" Bartholomew asked, getting on his feet.

"Caiaphas' house!" John saw very pale.

"We must go there!" Simon drew Peter back on his feet.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked bewildered.

"They arrested him, Mary!" Peter shouted, while they all started running. "Judas's betrayed him!"

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There were many Romans around Caiaphas' house, but even more Jews. Mary was slightly gasping when they stopped. They managed to come pretty close to Jesus, about two rows away. Mary saw Judas standing really close to the doors, head bowed. Had she really understood Peter well? Had Judas really betrayed Jesus?

She could hear Caiaphas low voice. "Nazareth, do you realise the seriousness of the cause you're facing? You say you're the son of God. Is that true?"

Jesus calm voice spoke. "That's what you say. You say that I am."

There was some commotion on that sound. Mary stood on the tips of her toes and saw Judas being stopped by two men, tears streaming over his cheeks, trying desperately to come closer to Jesus. Mary looked again. Judas? _Crying?_

"Well, there you have it, gentlemen," Annas said smoothly. "Do we need more evidence? Judas," He turned to Judas, who now stared at the ground, like there was something very interesting written on. "Thank you for the victim. If you stay a while, you'll see him bleed!"

So Judas _had _betrayed him! Mary felt her anger boiling and wanted to smash Judas' face. She set a step forward, but two strong arms stopped her. "Don't!" Peter whispered. "You'll only get yourself in trouble."

"Let _go _of me!" she hissed, but he held her too strongly.

Jesus was forced to stand up and walk. He stopped before Judas. Mary saw everything that happened like she stood right beside them.

"Judas," said Jesus, although there was too many noise from the crowd for Mary to understand him. His brown eyes for a moment flickered with a burning anger, that disappeared immediately again, and his eyes softened. Judas turned his head aside, so he didn't have to look Jesus in the eye. "I... I forgive you, Judas," Jesus mouthed, lying his hand carefully on Judas chest. A tear slid over Judas' cheek. Jesus gave Judas a soft tap on his chest and left, under the shouts of the mob.

Peter let go of Mary as soon as Jesus and Judas had disappeared and the crowd started to disperse. She stood stupefied and suddenly felt very tired, tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

"Hey," a bent, old woman suddenly said against Peter. "I think I've seen you somewhere. Wait- weren't you with that man, they took away? I recognise your face!" Everyone stopped, staring at Peter. Mary looked around. There were still enough soldiers on the square who could arrest Peter after all.

Mary felt she was pulled back by hands. She looked up and saw Simon looking anxiously at Peter, the apostles behind him, all far enough for not to be involved. She saw very clear sweat gathering on Peter's brow, but when he spoke, his voice was as calm as ever and even a little indignant. "You've got the wrong man, lady," he frowned. "I don't know him." He gestured in the direction Jesus had left. "And I wasn't where he was tonight, never near the place."

"That's strange," one of the guards said thoughtful, coming closer, "for I am sure I saw you with him. You were right next to him, and yet you deny-"

"I tell you I was never, ever with him!" Peter interrupted. Mary heard for the first time his voice quivered a little, but was sure the people who didn't know him would be fooled easily.

"But I saw you also," a tall man said. "It looked just like you."

"I don't know him!"

"Well, if you say so," the guard shrugged. He motioned the other people to leave. "Com'on! Nothing to see here!"

Finally only the apostles and Mary were left, all staring unbelieving at Peter. He ell on his knees and pushed his hands against his face. "Oh Jesus," they heard him whisper. "I'm so sorry."

There came no reply.

Mary thought she could see Jesus smiling at her, beckoning her. She put out her arms, ignoring Simon's grasping movements to catch her shoulders. Everything went black while the ground swept suddenly in her face. "Peter!" she thought she heard Andrew scream. "She's fainting!"

Darkness.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** The Big Boss (aka God), ALW and Tim Rice still own everything.

**Author's note:** Could We Start Again, Please? and Judas' Death, part 1.

_I've been living to see you…_

John looked around at the apostles. But were they still apostles, Jesus' disciples? Jesus would be killed, murdered by his best friend. John passed a hand over his eyes.

_Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this…_

They all sat listless on the steps of the old temple Jesus had been arrested in. Peter sat as far as possible from the others, only Andrew sat obstinate next to him. They hadn't blamed him for anything; even if they had wanted to, there was the listless feeling to stop them; the idea that it all didn't matter anymore. But he blamed himself, that was very clear. He had buried his face in his hands since they had come sitting here and hadn't looked up anymore.

_This was unexpected, what do I do now?_

Mary sat not far of John, the eyes empty. No, not really empty. There was a bottomless sadness in them. She had quickly woken up again after her fainting, but she hadn't spoken a word since.

_Could we start again please?_

What had happened? John thought. Everything Jesus had said had come true… what were they to do?

_I've been very hopeful so far…_

Simon got up, and Phillip followed his example. Everybody looked up, except Peter and Mary. "I'm- I'm gonna check how Jesus is," Simon said hoarsely, not looking at anyone.

_Now, for the first time, I think we're going wrong…_

"I'm coming with you," Phillip said, his normal shyness disappearing.

_Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream…_

They walked off the stairs and Simon was hit frontal by a man who came racing out a small street. Simon managed to keep his balance, but the other man was knocked off his feet. "Hey, look out where you're-Judas!" Simon's mouth fell open.

_Or could we start again please?_

The apostles jumped from the stairs, and even Mary and Peter followed. Here ended their inactiveness. Judas sat on the ground, where he had landed, staring at the ground. He hadn't reacted when Simon had said his name. He slowly came on his feet again and looked around. John shuddered when he saw his eyes. The normal mocking lights and live had disappeared. He was empty. He looked totally indifferent and didn't seem to recognise them. His clothes were torn, John noticed.

_I think you've made your point now…_

"You!" Mary started and hit with her small fists his chest, tears falling from her eyes. "Murderer! Murderer!" He looked upon her, still empty. It was scary, John thought. It wouldn't have been half as bad if he just had cried or even hadn't shown any remorse. Everything was better than this wrapping.

_You've even gone a bit too far to get the message home…_

Peter stepped forward and pulled her away. The meeting had brought something back. His eyes shone again, severe and autoritorian. John remembered that Jesus had asked Peter to take care of them."Judas?" Judas didn't look up. "Why are you here?"

_Before it gets too frightening we ought to call a halt…_

Finally Judas raised his head. There was a small spark of recognition in his eyes, which immediately was replaced again by indifference. "Peter." He looked around, to all of them, but the little spark didn't come back, until his eyes met Mary's.

_So could we start again please?_

He instinctively sat a step back. "Mary." She spit at him. "Mary," he repeated. Something was dawning on him, saw John. "Jesus." He was silent for a moment and then started laughing, like a madman. All the apostles' faces showed the same horror. Suddenly he pushed his hands against his face, moaning, and started running again, past them.

_Could we start again please?_

Past the memory.

_Could we start a-?_

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Annas nodded. The death warrant for Jesus was looking well. "It's neatly done," he said, sounding slightly indifferent. The other priests quickly agreed with the best friend of the high priest. He received a hidden smirk from Caiaphas. They had them in the palm of their hands. 

The doors flew open. A frantic looking Iscariot stormed in. "Oh, my God, I saw him! He looked three-quarters dead! And he was so wounded I couldn't look at him! You've beaten him so hard that he was bent and lame!" For a moment there was a consuming anger in his eyes while he looked at them, blaming them for what had happened to Christ. Caiaphas stood up and walked to the wall, indicating to Annas that he could act as he pleased. "And I know who'll get blamed!" But, saw Annas, there was also desperation in Iscariot's eyes. "I don't believe he knows I acted for our good! I'd safe him all this suffering if I was able to!" He took some steps in Annas' direction. "I really acted for our good! I'd save him! I _want_ to save him!" He trembled violently. "I- I want that it stops."

"Oh please," said Annas, not even trying to hide his contempt. "Cut the confessions, forget the excuses. I don't understand why you're sorry for what you've done. All that you've said has come true with our vengeance; the mob turned against him, you backed the right horse." He pushed Judas in the arms of the other priests.

"What you have done will be the saving of Israel," Caiaphas said, coming closer. "You'll be remembered forever for it." Judas smirked for a moment. Annas wondered briefly why. "And not only that you've been paid for your efforts. Pretty good wages for one little kiss."

Annas motioned to the priests who held Judas that they should remove him from the room. When that was done, Caiaphas turned to him. "Why do you think he acted like that?"

Annas shrugged, a bored expression on his face. "Like I care. Probably got upset by seeing Christ. Maybe I shouldn't have let him watch the torture."

"Can he do anything?"

"I doubt it. We already have Christ, there are no laws to free him and the prison is safely guarded."

"Good."

After that they quickly settled down for some important business.

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What is your very high appreciated opinion, aka review? 


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** still not mine...

**Author's note:** Find the hidden lyrics! This is my longest chapter until now, so please read it all and not just the half. This is Judas' Death, part 2, seen from his view... Oh yeah, in the first chapter I wrote something about the Bible... Well it should be the Torah... The Bible wasn't written then! Thank you Poggey!

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_Jesus… Jesus…_

_Are you listening? Can you even hear me? No, of course you can't, I know you can't hear me, if you're not still being beaten up, you probably fainted. And you're far away. Far away from me. Jesus…_

_They had told me your hair was as fair as the sun, and your eyes as blue as the sea. _

_Bullshit. Your hair was black, although it was quite light, almost brown when the sun shone on it. And your eyes… God, they were brown. God, they scared me. They do still. I don't have to close my eyes to see you. I see you even now, every line, your smile, your hair fluttering in the wind, how you always looked at me, friendly and innocent…_

_Do you remember you told me once my logic, my intelligence would never fail me? It doesn't even leave me now. I know perfectly well what I've done. But I only did what you wanted me to._

_I've killed you. I've killed you. And with that, you've killed me. _

_I love you._

_There, I finally said it. I love you, I love you, I love you, I-love-you…_

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_Where am I? I don't know. I don't recognise anything. My head aches. Have I cried? I think so. My whole face is wet. There's nobody around. I'm totally alone. Maybe it's best. I have been spattered with innocent blood. They'd probably spit on me. Judas Iscariot, the Betrayer. They'll hate me over centuries. I shall be dragged through the slime and the mud. The biggest crook, the greatest murderer, the cruellest criminal will even be too good to be called Judas Iscariot. The Traitor. _

_They paid me thirty silver coins. Blood money. It wasn't worth a finger of you. Jesus, I'd sell out the nation, for I have been settled with the murder of you. _

_I am not going to try to apologise, Jesus, I know perfectly well there's no way to make it up to you. I'm just going to explain. It is true I also was worried about you; look how wrong everything had gone. It was the only reason I fought so many times with you, I just wanted to make you clear how worried I was and that you were in danger. I was sure one day you would be killed. I just had no idea it would be me. The main reason was my love- No. That's not true. It was my jealously and my anger. My jealously at Mary and my anger when you chose her above me. The feelings which caused me to hurt you rather than her._

_I'm so sorry._

* * *

_I've cried. Actually I'm still crying. I feel the tears running down my cheeks. I had never cried before I met you. I was so afraid that you'd use it against me the first weeks I knew you. That you'd consider me weak. Not worth paying attention to._

_But you cried yourself._

I hear somebody frantic mumbling in his sleep. I sit up and see Peter coming on his feet. I look around, but he quickly walks over to you and kneels down beside you. "Jesus! Jesus! Wake up!"

I stand up and kneel at your other side. "Is he having a nightmare?"

"Uh-huh." Peter frowns. "Com'on, Jesus!" He pokes with his finger against your shoulder. I look around. All the others are still asleep, but seeing the volume in which you mumble and sometimes give a cry, they won't be asleep long.

"Jesus! Calm down. You're having a nightmare." I grab your shoulders and softly shake them. "Wake up. It's alright now."

Your eyes fly open, bewildered and tears in the corners. You softly weep and, clinging to me, bury your face in my shoulder. I awkwardly pat your head, murmuring: "It's alright. It's alright." I raise my eyebrows questioning at Peter, who gestures I should go on like I'm doing. So I, feeling very strange, put my arms carefully around you and stroke your hair, which is even softer than I imagined it to be.

You slowly calm down and even manage to smile to me and Peter. "It… it was that old dream again, Peter."

I look curious, but don't ask anything. You still don't let go of me, and I am strangely peaceful, feeling you lying against me. But you don't probably need me anymore, and there is no reason for me to stay, so I reluctantly start to get up.

Your both arms immediately cling around me, with a force I hardly expected from you. "Don't go," you whisper. "Please don't go. They'll come back if you do."

Peter nods to me, so I slide back beside you, almost rejoicing. "Will you need any help, Judas?" Peter asks. I shake my head. He makes a respectful move and goes back to his blanket. I slowly caress your hair, thinking of Jonathan, and instead of my normal rage, I feel still strangely happy.

"What are you thinking of?"

"Of Jonathan." I answer honestly.

"Oh." You are silent for a moment. "Thank you for staying."

"You're welcome."

"You won't go away, will you?"

"Of course not."

"I don't think I've ever had such a good friend."

I smile. "_I_ don't think I ever had a friend before."

"Then I'll be one. And Peter and all the others will be too." You sound very sleepy. You close your eyes and let your head rest against my shoulder. After some time I hear your breath go slow, so you have to be asleep.

I can easy place you under your blanket and leave, but I don't. I tell myself I don't because I have promised you to stay, but somewhere I know it was because you make me feel even happier than I felt when I was around Jonathan.

When I wake up, it's starting to get light. Peter sits beside the ashes of last night's fire and looks up when I stiffly stand up, placing you under the blanket. You have a beautiful smile on your lips. Then I join him at the fire. I'm afraid he's going to accuse me of sleeping with you; after all, at his view, there has been no reason for me to stay. Strangely, I'm more afraid for what he will say to you than to me. After all, nothing happened.

I open my mouth. "Peter… we… I- I swear-"

He interrupts me. "I know Judas," he says firmly, "and to be honest, I don't care."

I nod gratefully.

_Why did I think of that again? I don't remember. All is black. Peter…I think he knew. He could sometimes look at me- but he never said a word to me, not even he found us like that the second time, or the third… you used to call him you tower of strength, your cliff in the breaks. He just knew, but he never told anyone, not even you, how much I loved you…_

_I just don't know how to love you. I don't know why you move me. You're a man, you're just a man. You're not a king, you're just the same as everyone I've ever met._

_You scare me so._

_When you're cold and- dead, will you let me be? Do you love me too? Do you still care for me?_

_Oh, my head… I've seen them, Jesus. I believe they were actually afraid of me. Their faces were pale and, except her and Peter, they all looked horrified. I suppose I must've looked terrible._

_I always was your best friend. You called me your friend, while no one had called me like that ever before. Thanks to you I could tell my stories again. I hadn't been able to since Lisa. When I recall the look that lit up your face when I told one, I still smile. Everything was well. I only was your friend, but I could live with that, for I also was your 'brother', like you sometimes called me, the person who stood the closest to you. I didn't need you to say you loved me, like I actually knew you would never say, I could imagine it. And that was enough._

_Do you remember the times when I taught you to read and write? Somehow you had been skipped by the rabbi and you could only talk Hebrew. And I could teach it to you._

"What are you doing, Judas?"

I look up. You stare over my shoulder at the book with good interest. It was the Torah, the first of the three Books, but you don't seem to recognise it. "I'm reading the Torah." Peter doesn't look up, but I see he's listening intentionally.

"Really? I can't read."

Normally I would look very surprised when I hear that, but somehow I manage to keep my face blank. "How's that possible?" Bartholomew and Simon start following the conversation.

"I don't know." You sit down beside me, still looking curious at the book.

"But I heard you quoting the Torah."

"Yeah, the rabbi taught me it by heart, but he never told me how to read or write."

I get an idea, that comes forth both from your curious, eager, brown eyes and the warmth you're radiating. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Yes!" You're gloating. A better reward I couldn't get.

"Okay." I start rummaging in my knapsack. "Here I've got some- charcoal." I gaze at it for a minute. "Oh well, it'll do. And I've got some parchment, but we'll have to be thrifty. I won't let you write in my books. Caesar is a little too good to be ruined."

"Of course not."

"That's not that of course. Yesterday I had to stop Andrew or he would've drawn something on Aristotle."

"Andrew!" You cast a look at the other side of the fire. Andrew's face turns slowly to a bright pink.

"Don't worry, Jesus. I told him I 'd kill him if he'd ever try again."

"Simon!" You actually look shocked.

"Another wonderful remark of Simon," I observe dryly. "I believe your intelligence is actually growing, Simon, this can only be your fifth stupid remark of the day." Simon grins at me. No matter how much we fight, I like that imprudent idiot.

"Just kidding, Nazareth. Just kidding."

You sigh, cast your eyes to heaven, which causes some chuckles, and look at me again. "What do I have to do?"

"Well, look." I quickly scratch something on the parchment. "This is 'Jesus'." You bow over the paper, a serious expression on your face. "This is the 'j', the 'e', the 's', the 'e' and again the 's'." I point at the symbols. "But you gotta watch out. The 'j' also can stand for the 'i', and the 'e' can also be an 'a'. So it really depends on what exactly you are reading." I speak slow, not so slow that you'd think I think you an idiot, but just slow enough that you get everything.

"I think I understand." The most apostles watch now, some just amused, others really interested.

"Now your turn." I hand you the parchment and the charcoal. "Try to rewrite your name. Just copy it."

I look for a moment, but you hold the charcoal completely wrong. "No, wait." You obediently stop. I look for a moment for a way to guide your hand and then carefully put my arm around you, so I can lay my own hand over your right. I softly correct your grip and then guide your hand while you, with a frown, try again. My mouth is close to your ear and I can smell your hair. "That's better," I whisper, while I reluctantly let go. You smile at me.

_And then she came._

_Your little whore. No! She wasn't yours. She can't be yours. Oh, who am I fooling. I'm gonna be honest to you. She was yours. You loved her. And I knew it. And I hated her. Not because she loved you, I knew perfectly well how wonderful you were, so I couldn't blame her for that. But you loved her too, and I hated her and you because of it. Why did she have to come, everything was fine without her… oh, I'm raving. It was so clear._

I darkly stare over the river, brooding, when I hear your voice. "You seem a little tense, Judas." I look up in your twinkling eyes.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," I reply sarcastic.

Is there something wrong?"

"Hmph." I stare at the water again. "I'm feeling wonderful, thank you." I don't think you notice my slight ironic tone.

"When I am tense, Mary always massages me." My anger is boiling. So she massages you! But with your next words it immediately disappears again. "Do you want me to massage you?"

I shrug my shoulders. "If you wish to," I say in what I hope an off-hand way. You stand up and lay your warm hands on my shoulders. In spite of myself I strain totally.

"You will have to relax," you laugh. I quickly do as you say, cursing myself. You start kneading my shoulders and warm trills hover through my entire body. I close enjoying my eyes. "A penny for your thoughts," you whisper in my ear.

I can't help smiling. "My thoughts are a silver coin each."

Laughing you sit down beside me. "You cheat!" I open my eyes lazily.

"No nightmares anymore?" I ask nonchalant.

"No." You smile silently. "Not since Mary is here. She's so wonderful, Judas!"

I turn away so he won't see the anger burning in my eyes. "Good for you."

"I wanted to thank you," you say tenderly. "I know it must've been a bore for you, sitting almost every night up with me like that."

I can't look in your eyes, so I gaze at your lips, trying not to kiss them, I smile strained and mutter: "Oh, no problem at all."

_Someone left a rope here. I took it with me, though I don't know why. It's in my hand now. What will I do with it? Something tells me that I don't want to know._

* * *

_I think I could have controlled myself if I hadn't seen her kiss you. I think you were asleep, you had nothing to do with it. But she still kissed you! So I acted like I wanted to kiss her, to see how you would react and to show she was only a whore. Well, it did work in one way. But not like I wished. I had my proof; you were angry with me because I had tried. You would never leave her. You would even leave me in order to stay with her. So I went. I admit I immediately went to the priests to report you. They probably thought me crazy, a part of me was trying to stop me still. I'm not sure I wasn't insane at that moment, though I thought then I was perfectly calm._

_I only know now I don't want to see you die. At first I wanted to, I was planning on looking every minute of your suffering. But I can't. I really can't. Even the arrest didn't go like I had planned it. I was supposed to kiss your cheek, and then I'd look at you with my usual smirk: see, this is why I've done it. And then you would be surprised, maybe even disgusted. It wasn't supposed to go like this. Nothing was supposed to go like this._

* * *

_My mind is in darkness now. My God, I am sick. I've been used. And you knew, didn't you? My God, I'll never, ever know why you chose me for your crime! Your foul, bloody crime! You have murdered me! You have murdered me! You have murdered me, murdered me, murdered me…_

_I still feel your flesh burning against my lips… It was the first time I ever kissed you. Jesus…_

_I recognise it here. This is the way you will come when they take you to Pilate again. That can't be far anymore…I hear people shout. They are coming this way. The rope is in my hand. An olive tree is standing near. And… why not, Jesus? I don't deserve to live, do I? I just wish you could hear me now._

_I really love you._

_Jesus…_

* * *

There were shouts on the street. "That must be Jesus," Andrew muttered. They all stood together up and walked over.

Peter saw Mary pushing her hands against her mouth in order not to scream. Their leader was covered in blood, his clothes were torn apart, everywhere were bruises and cuts… but still there was something in his attitude. A sort of calm dignity. His brown eyes stood sad, but when they fell on them, he managed somehow to smile to them. The soldiers around him looked bored. They had the order to keep him whole, but, let's face it, their attitude said, what's left of him that's whole? Only one, slightly older man, really protected him and looked severe to people who tried to come near Jesus to punch him.

The apostles followed silently, Peter first. He was the leader now, he realised, and he remembered what Jesus had told him. "Take care of them, Peter." He would.

Suddenly the shouts stopped and the crowd diverted. Peter looked forward and then quickly pushed with Simon and Bartholomew Mary, John, the youngest James and Andrew aside so they couldn't see anything. But the four swiftly slipped past them and Peter saw Mary pushing again her hands against her mouth.

There stood a lonely olive tree along the way, with a rope. The end of the rope was around Judas' neck.

"Well," the captain of the soldiers said grumpily, "cut him down. The streets don't get prettier with him hanging there."

One of the soldiers with a lot of pimples did as he was told. Judas fell on the ground with a sickening noise. "He's still warm," the soldier quickly reported, while he searched through his bags. "And he doesn't have a penny. Can't be dead for more then ten minutes."

"Wait a minute," one of the others frowned, "that's that Iscariot-guy. How can't he have any money, I saw Annas give him an entire bag."

"Ohh, Isabella," an old lady after Peter whispered against her friend, "that's that man I have seen, the one who laughed so maddening in our street and threw all those silver coins on the ground, you know, the one who was yelling 'blood money' all the time."

"Hush," Isabella hissed. "I'm trying to listen."

"What d'we do with 'im, governor?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Let him lie. We'll pick him up later."

Peter looked at Jesus, just like, he saw, the older soldier who had protected Jesus. Jesus slowly knelt beside Judas and stroked some hair of his forehead. "Poor, old Judas," Peter heard him mutter. "Goodbye, my friend."

He slowly stood up. "Will we continue, captain?"

The captain looked suspicious, but gave his orders. Jesus smiled one last time at the body at the foot of the tree, looked behind him and mouthed at them: "Bury him, please." He turned again.

* * *

I LUV REVIEWS! and if you don't know what I mean now... 


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I guessyou all know what should be written here...

**Author's note:** this is the last chapter, or Jesus Christ Superstar, or the Thirteenth Apostle. Choose a title for yourself.

* * *

"No way!" Peter looked at the furious Thaddaeus. 

"I just ask you to help, Thaddaeus."

"I think Taddy's right," young James interrupted. "We shouldn't do it."

"Jesus asked us to."

"But how do you know Jesus said that?" Andrew wanted to know. "I mean, maybe he said… eeeer… 'Feed him to the hounds'. I think I prefer that."

"You just hate him 'cause Ruth fell in love with him!" John snapped.

That was the sign for all of them to start shouting and yelling. Peter saw Mary sitting along the way, not listening. He sighed. Everybody had clearly seen that Jesus mouthed 'bury him, please' but the most of them even didn't want to touch the body. It had cost him a lot of threatening and flattering to get them moving the body so the soldiers wouldn't get it. But bury Judas too seemed to be too much for them.

"Is there a Simon Peter here?" They all turned around. A soldier stood stiffly before them. Peter immediately recognised him. The only one who had tried to protect Jesus.

Peter could feel everyone around him strain. They were of course afraid he had come to arrest him too. "I am Simon Peter."

"I have a message from the one they call the Christ." The man searched in his pockets and took out a parchment, on which in Jesus'handwriting stood: _Simon Peter_. "Here." He handed it over. "He's condemned. He'll be crucified tomorrow. I-I'd like to offer him my grave. I just had spared enough money to buy one for me, but I'd like to give it to him. Could you place him in it?" Peter nodded. If Jesus trusted this man, he would too. "Good." The man turned around.

"Wait!" Peter called. The man turned again. "What's your name?"

"Joseph. Joseph of Arimathea."

Peter nodded. "Thank you." The man hesitated for a moment and then shook the hand Peter put out.

* * *

"What does he say, Peter?" 

Everybody gathered around Peter, in vain trying to read the letter Peter held firmly in his hand. He decided to read it aloud and looked down at the clumsy, childlike letters Jesus had tried so hardto write down, the letters Judas had taught him.

"_Dear all,_

_Do not worry about me. Like the man who has given you this letter may probably have told you, I'll be executed tomorrow. I hope you have done like I asked you and buried Judas. Take care of each other and tell the people about me and my ideas. We believe them to be right, and people should be free to say what they think is right, even if others don't think so. _

_The man who brought you this calls Joseph of Arimathea, and he has offered me the grave he had meant to keep for his own use. Please thank him for that._

_About Judas, please believe him to be my friend, whatever has happened. He cared more for me than some of you._

_Your friend,_

_Jesus of Nazareth_

_P.S. Peter, could you take care of Mary?"_

When Peter had finished the letter, there fell a silence. Mary stared at the letter and her under lip trembled visibly. Peter looked around and sighed. "Who will help me bury him?"

He stood next to the body and waited. Nobody moved. Mary, looking very pale, whispered "If Jesus wishes so," and walked over to the body. Then Thomas, loyal Thomas, took a step forward and silently placed himself next to Peter. Phillip, usually so shy, stepped next to him, a challenging look on his face. Someone suddenly swore loud and colourful in the middle of the group, and then Simon stood sulkily next to Peter, who couldn't suppress a smile. Slowly everybody followed.

* * *

They buried the body modestly. Peter thought of Judas. When was the first time he had suspected that…? He couldn't remember. He saw the others sometimes looking curiously in his direction. They probably thought he knew more about it. They probably realised he would never tell them too, so they didn't ask anything. 

He looked around, eying the beautiful town of Jerusalem. He wanted to get out of it. He never wanted to see the city of Jesus' death again.

Jesus had asked them to tell about him; he would. As far away as possible. He suddenly grinned. It was very Judas-like, but why wouldn't he defy the authority of the moment a bit? He could go to Rome. After all, he'd never been there.

* * *

"_Every time I look at you I don't understand_

_Why you let the things you did get so out of hand…"_

Jesus gasped for breath. Everything around him swayed and black spots kept blurring his sight.

"_You'd have managed better if you had it planned_

_Now why would you choose such a backward time and such a strange land?"_

Everywhere where people laughing and shouting at him. At least, he thought so, he couldn't hear them… A teasing voice kept singing in his ear… He had the faint impression he had heard it somewhere before…

"_If you'd come today you'd have reached the whole nation_

_Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication…"_

The sun burned hard and unmerciful on his shoulders and back, like sledgehammer blows on his naked skin. The heavy wooden cross pushed him down, tried to get him on the ground… Let it be over soon, he thought despairing, Please let it be over soon… and whose was that voice?

"_Don't you get me wrong- don't you get me wrong now- don't you get me wrong…"_

He saw faces appearing for his eyes and disappearing as quickly as they had come. From somewhere, far away in his mind, he got the names of his brothers and sisters…

"_I only want to know- I only want to know now- I only want to know…"_

Then the smell of warm milk… a warm, safe feeling… soft arms wrapped around him… a woman's face looked down on him, smiling. Mother, he thought, mother…

"_Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,_

_Who are you, what have you sacrificed?"_

The hard, hot but pleasant smell of woodcocks… a rough hand slamming on his shoulder… a weathered, bearded, friendly face… Father…

Then his friends, his apostles… He laughed again with them, travelled with them, fought with them, felt the friendship between them, though he officially was their teacher and they his students…

"_Jesus Christ Superstar,_

_Do you think you're what they say you are?"_

Peter… Andrew… James… John…Phillip… Bartholomew… Thomas… Matthew… James… Thaddaeus… Simon…

"_Tell me what you think about your friends at the top_

_Who do you think beside yourself the pick of the crop?"_

An olive-brown face appeared for his eyes… with hair as dark as a nightly sky, for it wasn't that black, but had a strange, almost blue shine… and with eyes as dark as a room with no door or window and no way to have some light, which is much darker than any night ever can be… white teeth visible between the mocking pulled-up lips… Judas?

"_Buddha, is he where it is, is he where you are?_

_Could Mohammed move a mountain or was that just PR?"_

He realised whose voice he heard singing. He saw Judas again, or better an image of him, in better clothes he had ever worn, smiling mocking, the eyes shining like always. Judas…

"_Did you mean to die like that, was that a mistake?_

_Or did you know your messy death would be a record breaker?"_

Memories jumped on him; Judas, lying next to the fire, completely at ease and because of that almost desirable… Judas, looking friendly instead of teasing, smiling tenderly while he caressed Jesus' hair after he had had a nightmare… Judas, crying… Judas, dead, the dried up tears still visible…

"_Don't you get me wrong- don't you get me wrong now- don't you get me wrong…"_

Love shouldn't be a crime Judas,Jesus thought while rough hands took him up and smashed him on the cross he was wearing just a minute ago.

"_I only want to know- I only want to know now- I only want to know…" _

His mouth opened to scream when the nails went right through his hands, but all that came out was a soft rattling. Mary… help me, he thought, and for a second he saw her face clearly for him, the sweet smile on her lips, her caressing hands on his hair, her beautiful eyes… Mary…

"_Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,_

_Who are you, what have you sacrificed?_

_Jesus Christ Superstar,_

_Do you think you're what they say you are?"_

The darkness came, surrounded him…

"_Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ,_

_Who are you, what have you sacrificed?_

_Jesus Christ Superstar,_

_Do you think you're what they say you are..."_

* * *

Does anyone of you likes Evita? Because I'm writing a fanfic of that too... Anyway, because this is the last chapter, I hope everybody who reads this will review. (snif) I'm sorry, I think I'm a little too sentimental. I don't like ending a story... (cries) I'm gonna take a big chocolate icecream and I'm gonna eat it all while I watch JCS once more, and I'm gonna cry whole the time!(snif- blows her nose violently) 


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